The Ride Home
by InkyTrue
Summary: Mark and Milt drive home after a good day's work.


Mark shifted the Coyote smoothly as they headed out of the police parking lot. "Good day's work," the Judge commented as they hit the open road. "What?" Mark asked, the wind taking away most of Harcastle's comment. "I said, Good Day's Work!" The Judge yelled a little gruffly, annunciating each word. "All right, all right, you don't have to yell," Mark replied giggling. Hardcastle rolled his eyes. It was giggling, like a kid. "Aw, noooo…" and now he had downshifted into whining, like a kid. "What?" "Taillights. Looks like an accident or something." Hardcastle looked around, but Mark was already shaking his head. "No shortcuts. We just passed Topanga. We're stuck." Hardcastle sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head sink back into the seat. "Oh, well."  
Mark turned to shoot a surprised look at his calm companion. "Well, aren't we the picture of composure? Get all your yelling out back at the station?" Hardcastle smiled without opening his eyes. "Yep." Mark chuckled and shook his head, but stopped when he saw the ragged edge in front of him. He dragged his hand across the dash. The sun and salt air were doing a number on the Coyote and no matter how much he tried to keep up with it, nature seemed to always be ahead of him.

"Sorry, Flip," he murmured. At that, Hardcastle's eyes flew open, "What?" "Nothing." Hardcastle kept his gaze. "Go back to sleep, Kemosabe. Tonto keep good eye on herd." Hardcastle closed his eyes for a minute again and then, without opening them, cleared his throat. "You don't talk about him much. Flip, I mean." Mark whipped his head around, but saw that Hardcase wasn't eyeing him. He took a moment. How to answer? "Yeah, well…" He was going to be snarky, say something like, 'He's in my memories, I don't need you to sweeten them up.' But even Mark knew that was crossing the line, so he just shrugged. "Not much to say now, I guess." Hardcastle nodded keeping his eyes closed.

"Geez! Are they ever gonna move?" Mark cried out. The Judge knew a change of topic when he heard one. "Let things go the way they're gonna go. Don't force your hand." "What?" Mark asked incredulously. "That definitely doesn't sound like you. You alright?" He asked, mockingly putting his hand to the Judge's forehead. Hardcastle shook it off immediately with a glare. "It wasn't me, wise guy. That was my Dad." "Your Dad?" "Yeah, said it practically every night when we would come in from the fields." "Huh." Mark thought this over for a minute. "What's it mean?" "I dunno. Just one of those things adults say. He'd say it when he'd let me drive home after a particularly good day's work. We were poor, so my reward after a good day's work was to get to drive the team." Suddenly Hardcastle's eyes were open, but Mark could tell he wasn't on PCH anymore. He was a million miles away on some rattling buckboard with his old man in the Arkansas evening air. "And I was always so eager to get home, to go fast, I inevitably irritated the team to buck. And if I heard it once, I heard it a thousand times, 'Let things go the way they're gonna go. Don't force your hand.'" Hardcastle smiled at the memory. "Funny what you remember."

The Judge sighed and began to resettle, but Mark didn't want to let it go. It was rare that Hardcastle talked about his past and even rarer when it was about his Dad. "Did you get to drive him home often?" "Sure!" the Judge crowed. "I was a good worker! Stamina, kid." "Yeah?" "Yeah, well, good enough to get to drive home more often than not!" Milt declared with a self-satisfied smile. The kind of smile that always seemed to make Mark smile back in reflection. "It was a win-win. My Dad got to sit back, close his eyes and rest. And I got to feel like I was a big man, driving the team with my Old Man at my side…Hey look!" Mark was brought abruptly back to the present. "They're starting up!"

With a devilish grin, Mark revved the engine. Hardcastle chuckled as he leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes again. "Let things go the way they're gonna go, kiddo. Don't force your hand." Mark nodded and realized if he downshifted they would go a little slower. Sure, they might not make the early movie, but Mark didn't mind. A little time at the wheel with Hardcastle by his side was reward enough.


End file.
